


Land, Ahoy!

by abovetheserpentine



Series: Is The World Strange Or Am I? [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious!Derek, Pining, actor!derek, oblivious!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheserpentine/pseuds/abovetheserpentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It starts how most things do: the Internet." Or, how Derek learned to stop worrying and love Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Land, Ahoy!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I wrote this for my friend Gem. It didn't turn out at all how I planned. Wrote the last half quite tipsy. Excuse all errors and blame the alcohol. Endings are hard. Also, I can't write porn, so there's that. It's 4AM, I'm done. Enjoy!
> 
> AS OF 14/12/14: For some reason the pictures are no longer working. I managed to find the word document where I'd transcribed them. Posted the text, leaving the pictures just in case they work again. Happy reading!

**_Stiles Stilinski_ ** _  
@StilesFreakingStilinski_

_RPF? Guys, don’t let Derek see that shit_

_3:11 AM – 26 Mar 13_

 

~*~*~

 

It starts how most things do: the Internet.

“What is ‘shipping’?” Derek asks, staring at his laptop in confusion. His eyes flick over to Stiles, who turns his head slowly, a look of abject horror on his mole-ridden face.

“And furthermore,” Derek continues, squinting his eyes at the screen and adjusting his glasses distractedly, “what is  _Sterek?_ ”

Stiles laughs nervously, hastily getting up from the couch and crossing the room until he gets to the desk Derek has sat at for the past half hour or so, researching for his new role.

“I thought you were looking up stuff for your newest role,” Stiles deflects, closer now and looking over Derek’s shoulder. He stumbled across what looks to be some sort of fan site. Actually, to Stiles’s trained eyes, it’s probably much more. But sue him, Derek gets curious and it’s not as if he hasn’t encountered fan worship before. This is just – other.

Derek raises his signature eyebrow, glancing at Stiles out of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to the computer screen.

“My character is a technological hipster with a penchant for sarcasm. This seemed like a viable exercise.” He explains, observing the strained smile on Stiles’s face with worry. The breath brushing his left cheek is stilted, uneven. Stiles hasn’t seemed this panicked since Scott told him he’d be moving to New York with Allison for ‘something different’. Derek snorts to himself. Yeah, that didn’t go over well  _at all_.

A pale, dotted hand pushes his screen down and the laptop clicks shut with a finality Derek’s not sure he likes.

“Forget that. How about some tacos from that place in the Promenade?”

Stiles looks hopeful, probably a tad too much. But Derek hasn’t been able to deny him anything since Stiles moved to L.A. and was in desperate need of a roommate and ‘ _Derek, it’s only logical. You’re looking to move, I have a place. Please?’_

“Tacos.” Derek agrees.

 

~*~*~

 

Some people might think Derek doesn’t like his job. That’s not true. He loves his job. It’s why he does it. After the fire, after his last words to his mother, Derek vowed he wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to do. Unfortunately, his job comes with certain… obstacles. Stiles calls them perks. But no, they’re definitely obstacles.

“I don’t even know what that is.” Derek frustratingly huffs later that week.

Stiles sighs like Derek exists to test him, rolling his eyes in a manner that means Derek can’t help but notice. Not like he wouldn’t, anyway.

“It’s a social media site.” Stiles continues to explain, “People follow you, and they can see what you post. But your posts can only be 160 characters long.” He pauses, seemingly unsure how to explain this to a 28 year old with an unused Modern History degree under his belt. “Think of it like a running commentary on your life.”

“But why would I want a running commentary on my life?” Derek frowns at the vegetables he’s cutting up for the vegetarian lasagna Stiles has been so fond of since Derek first made it for him three years ago. Sometimes Derek can’t believe they’ve been living together for that long.

“Look, it’s not-“ Stiles begins, but thinks better of it. He’s staring at Derek, willing him to understand. “It’s not for you, okay?” Derek looks up at that, the pleading tone to Stiles’s voice only now just surfacing, “It’s for your fans.”

“Okay,” Derek says slowly, his unstoppable eyebrow emerging once more.

“People like you, Derek.” He states, and Derek only just hears the mumbled “Who knows why.”

“Then do it.” Derek says, and the vegetables are silent with agreement as he places them over the sheets of pasta and cheese sauce.

“Really?” Stiles sounds sceptical, disbelief colouring his tone and making the hairs on the back of Derek’s neck stand on end. Is he really that predictable?

“Yeah.” He replies, like that’s the end of it.

But it’s not. Derek was so wrong.

He has one tweet.  _One_. Something innocuous that he thought no one would care about and that’s exactly why he posted it – to prove a point. But it’s done just the opposite. The Internet has pretty much exploded over it. Derek guesses he should’ve predicted something like this would happen. He’s always underestimated the power of the online world.

 

 

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_Stiles made me get this. Hi, everyone._

_1:37 AM – 29 Jun 13_

 

Apart from broadcasting his sleeping habits for the world to see, Derek was fine with it. It was honest, friendly; nothing like the hesitancy he’d displayed to Stiles at the thought of doing such a thing. Or even the nervousness he’d felt just before pressing ‘Tweet’ on his phone.

He put the annoying but necessary device on Do Not Disturb, set it to charge, and fell asleep with plans for a protein shake on the way to the gym tomorrow morning.

Stiles really should have told him to turn off e-mail notifications. He’s verified already, which is  _“totally insane”_  Stiles tells him via text the next day,  _“but makes sense because_ hello _, you’re Derek Hale and no one has even bothered making a fake account since they know I’d dismiss them faster than they could say_ ‘Derek Hale for next Batman’ _, like that’s anything you’d ever do because you’re a closet Marvel fan and I know it-“_  Needless to say, Derek didn’t read the whole text for fear of starting a war he’s not sure he’d be able to finish.

He barely glances at the replies, but his tweet has nearly 20,000 favourites and over 10,000 retweets. He looks at his profile, bare and very unassuming, to see he has  _two million_  followers already. Derek quickly exits the app and breathes deeply for a few moments.

Fame has never been Derek’s thing. It’s not that he’s ungrateful, or thinks he’s unworthy of it because hey, he’s proud of his work and thankful for the support of the fans that allow him to audition for better and better roles each time. But, he’s uncomfortable with it. It took a lot of therapy after the fire for him to even consider following what he always wanted to do since he was 10 years old, let alone come to terms with everything that came with it.

Derek’s itchy under his collar when he thinks about it again later, absent-mindedly hearing the news about that dramatic role he’s been looking forward to for the past month. He’s got it, just scraped through past Ryan Gosling, which makes him shaky and rigid all over at the same time, and distracts him enough to forget about Twitter and its unpredictability.

Erica concludes the professional meeting seamlessly, and then buys him a drink because apparently “-looks like Stiles just died. Okay, maybe not that bad. But, what’s up?”

Derek thinks maybe this time in the afternoon is a bit too early for alcohol, but Erica tells him he deserves it –  _Christopher Nolan_ wants him in his movie.

He’s fiddling with the remains of the steak he had for lunch when he blurts it out over Erica’s detailed description of Kate Winslet’s latest nude scene, which she  _really_  enjoyed-

“Twitter.”

Erica’s eyebrows rise almost entirely into her hairline, surprised but also amused and Derek suddenly wants to abruptly end this conversation and watch the next Game of Thrones episode with Stiles. They’re up to the end of season two, and although Stiles insists he doesn’t mind watching it again for Derek, Derek knows he’s dying to catch up on the latest episode. Derek knows because he’d be the same.

“I presume you’re referring to the news of the week; Derek Hale gets Twitter and subsequently two million followers in twelve hours?” Erica snorts, playing with the straw in her mocktail and resting her left hand on her belly. She’s been doing that a lot, lately, even though she’s not even three months along yet.

“Yeah, you can thank Stiles for that one,” She snorts, smirking as she takes a sip of her drink.

“Stiles?” Derek inquires, confused. He knows Stiles made the account for him – after all, he needed Derek’s permission simply because the last time he did something with Derek’s e-mail without his consent, Derek was receiving a daily e-mail on the best and latest MMORPG games of 2012, and would he like to sign up for another free trial? Derek really needs to change his password.

“Yeah, the idiot was advertising you to his followers all morning. For someone who’s not even famous, he sure has a lot of people who want to know about his life.” The waiter comes over, offers more bread and in the same breath looks Erica over appreciatively. She smiles, pleased, but declines his offer. Number one way to get Erica to do what you want is to compliment her. Although Erica claims no one makes her do anything she doesn’t want. Derek learnt that the hard way.

“At first I thought it was because he was the famous Derek Hale’s BFF,” Derek asks for the cheque, wanting to end what’s most likely to be an embarrassing conversation sooner rather than later. With Erica they always are. “But when he reached one million followers after you created your account, well, the evidence was irrefutable.” She finishes her drink with a slurp of her straw and then they’re up, ready to part ways.

“Don’t be so down, buttercup,” Erica says sweetly, patting his cheek like he’s her soon-to-be child, “The world loves you.”

She leaves in a blur of blonde curls and killer heels. Derek feels like he’s just been duped, but he’s not sure how.

He shakes it off. Game of Thrones is waiting, and Stiles has no doubt sent him a plethora of texts berating him for his meeting running overtime.

He glances at his phone.

_37 messages._

He smiles.

 

~*~*~

 

“When was the last time you had a date?” His sister grills through the phone. Laura’s in Boston, teaching at MIT and killing it, and Derek often wishes he were her. His life might be a little easier to understand, that way.

“Does it matter?” Derek replies. He steals a piece of Stiles’s curly fries, and hears the anticipated sound of indignation follow as, grinning, he quickly leaves the main room of their apartment and lands himself heavily on his bed.

“Well yeah, baby bro.” He can hear her reluctant smile through the phone. “Happiness. Someone to bitch to. Someone to bring to those premieres and award shows you’re now getting invited to. All those things.”

“I’ve got Stiles for that.” He reasons, playing with the stress ball Stiles got him a year or so back, when he landed his first proper role in a big-time movie and almost collapsed in the shower at the thought of working on it a week prior to the first day of shooting. He always gets antsy before a big project, but Stiles is there to distract him with the latest video game, or news from home, or  _“best show_ ever _, oh my God!”_

“Stiles doesn’t count,” He can pretty much hear the eye-roll, “He’s your BFF and one true man crush.”

“BFF?” Derek questions, stumped.

“The  _point_ ,” She continues, ignoring him, “is that I know someone who recently moved to L.A. and is in need of a  _friend_ , if you know what I mean.” The eyebrow waggle is as obvious as if he’s in the same room.

“Save me the euphemisms, Laura.” He responds flatly.

A date. It might be nice. Laura’s right, he hasn’t been on one in a while, not since Scott’s botched attempt at setting him up with a fellow vet school student nearly a year ago now. She’d been nice, if a little too much into his body and not really interested in the whole package. They’d had sex, it was pleasant, and she hadn’t alluded to wanting anything more. He’d been planning to let her down easy, anyway.

“Alright, give me their number.”

He can hear the sounds of Laura’s dorky celebratory dancing over the line, and smothers a laugh. It’ll only encourage her.

“Her name’s Jennifer,” she starts excitedly, “and she’s an English teacher, totally cute-“

Derek wonders what Stiles is doing tomorrow. Maybe they can get drunk and play Cards Against Humanity again. That was the most fun Derek has ever had intoxicated. He doesn’t do it much, for obvious reasons.

“Dinner, asshole!” he hears from the other room.

“Gotta go. Bye, Laura!” He hangs up on her screaming at him that he hasn’t even written down Jennifer’s number yet.

 _Text it._ He sends.

_Text what? Your dinner? If only modern technology had advanced that much, Derek._

He frowns for a second, then realises he sent it to Stiles instead of his sister. That happens a lot more than he thought possible.

 

~*~*~

 

**__**

**__ **

**__ **

**__ **

**__**

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_Derek is really bad at video gamkjakjfnakwjf_

_12:37 PM – 5 Jul 13_

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_Sorry, he stole my phone_

_12:39 PM – 5 Jul 13_

**_Stiles Stilinski_ ** _  
@StilesFreakingStilinski_

_@therealderekhale: who’s he? the cat’s father? :P_

_12:39 PM – 5 Jul 13_

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_@StilesFreakingStilinski: I don’t think the expression goes like that._

_12:49 PM – 5 Jul 13_

**_Stiles Stilinski_ ** _  
@StilesFreakingStilinski_

_@therealderekhale: whaetevr, you lurrrrrvveeee it!!_

_12:50 PM – 5 Jul 13_

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_@StilesFreakingStilinski: Yeah_

_1:08 PM – 5 Jul 13_

~*~*~

 

The door rattles, and Derek pops his head over the top of the couch, a little groggy.

“Hey,” Stiles says gently, slinging his bag onto the floor beside the entrance to their apartment, a bad habit Derek has failed to break and gave up on.

“What time is it?” Derek asks, yawning halfway through his question. He thinks Stiles gets it, though, because he answers.

“Just a little after eleven, old man.” He lifts Derek’s bare feet, plonking himself down onto the couch and then leaving Derek’s feet in his lap. He quirks an eyebrow when Derek closes his eyes once more, too tired to kick Stiles for flicking him like he usually does when he’s in range of Derek’s bare skin.

They’re silent for a few minutes, and Derek’s nearly falling asleep again when he remembers.

“Oh,” he starts, forcing himself to open his eyes a little. Stiles gazes at him imploringly. “I won’t be home for dinner tomorrow night.”

Stiles huffs a laugh, warm hands resting gently on Derek’s feet, just holding.

“What, you got some big actor shindig to attend?”

Derek shuts his eyes, grinning sleepily.

“I ha’e a date.”

The slight tightening of Stiles’s grip on his feet is the last thing Derek registers before he drifts off once more.

 

~*~*~

 

Comic-con is, Derek has to admit, a perk of the job. He loved it before he became a well-known actor, and he loves it now. The difference is that these days he doesn’t have to pay for anything, and he also happens to be one of the guests. Stiles follows him everywhere, just like before.

“Ugh, this year is amazing! You, Andrew Garfield for the Spidey sequel, the The Walking Dead cast, just  _everyone!_ ” Stiles turns to him, plastic VIP lanyard swinging into his chest. Stiles is wearing his Captain America tee because, supposedly, “Chris Evans is rumoured to turn up and I wanna show him my love, Derek. My eternal love. So much-”

“Okay, I get it.” Derek laughs, eyes crinkling. He has to forgo cosplay at cons now because, as Stiles put it, “everyone’s here for your pretty, pretty face.”

Derek thinks it probably has more to do with the fact that he needs to be recognisable enough for the interviews. Erica would kill him if he didn’t attend each and every one to promote  _Grazer_ , the thriller he’s been getting worldwide acclaim for. But Derek, he’s really here to announce something pretty big, something not even Stiles knows. He’s been keeping it a secret for a few weeks now, and he finally got the go ahead a couple of days back to let his fans know. He’s excited, if only for the look that’s going to be on Stiles’s face.

“So you’ll be at the three o’clock panel?” Derek asks again, running a hand through his hair nervously.

Stiles looks a little shocked, his hair – longer now since Derek told him if he ever wanted to get laid he might want to look a little less like he was sixteen instead of the 24 years he boasts – sticking up in all directions, like the excitement he’s feeling is a live-wire to every part of him.

“Yeah, man,” He grins, big and bright and the butterflies in Derek’s stomach calm just a little, “You know I will. Wouldn’t miss it.” His hand squeezes Derek’s arm comfortingly for a second before he’s off again, dragging Derek through the crowds and sounds of ‘Hey, is that-?’, ‘Dude, that was the guy who dated Scarlett Johansson!’, ‘I don’t want to go up to him, he’s with Stiles-’ and making him get pictures with all his favourite cosplayers.

The closer it gets to his panel, the more agitated Derek becomes. It’s stupid. It’s just a panel, just fan questions; he’s done them before. Everyone thinks it’s because he famously cameo-ed in the latest X-Men (which he was rationally excited about the whole time he was on the project), and that this whole thing is just a promotion deal.

Derek smirks to himself. Well, that’s part of it.

 

~*~*~

 

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_Big news coming up_

_11:40 AM – 19 Jul 13_

 

~*~*~

 

The panel is good. It’s the usual questions; what he thought of the movie, how he feels about the massively positive reception  _Grazer_  received, all that jazz. It’s not until the fan questions that things get a little interesting. Derek’s planning his reveal for the last possible moment, so he’s just going to get through everyone as quickly as possible. He’s shaking a little bit, kind of edgy. It’s unnoticeable to everyone, though. Stiles is too far away to see anything. It’s going according to schedule.

“Hi, Derek,” a guy starts, and Derek smiles kindly, knows how nerve-wracking the ‘public’ eye is. It takes a lot of guts to get up and ask a question.

Stiles is off to the side, live-tweeting everything on his account. Derek’s going to have to go through Stiles’s page later and rebut anything that seems exaggerated. He tends to get off topic.

“I was just wondering, given the nature of fandom, whether you were familiar with its terms?”

He sees Stiles pause out of the corner of his eye.

“Uhh,” Derek’s voice reverberates throughout the room, and he wants to cringe at how he sounds, “Probably not. I’m sort of technologically inept. Although Stiles has been helping me get better at all that.” He looks to Stiles as he says this, and the man in question sends him an overly sarcastic thumbs up, which makes everyone chuckle. Derek’s shoulders relax a bit, and he feels okay about all this. Sometimes, the fan questions intimidate him, make him feel-

“There’s just talk of ‘Sterek’ going around, and I wanted to know how you felt about that?”

There are a few groans across the crowd, and he knows Stiles has stopped live-tweeting because there’s absolute silence coming from his place behind him.

“Sterek?” He gives an overly confused look to the audience, knows his exaggerated humour pleases his fans and makes him seem more approachable. All he’s really doing is channeling Stiles, which Derek knows Stiles thinks it’s hilarious. “I’ve heard it once or twice, but like I said, I’m sort of clueless.”

The fan explains this phenomenon Derek has managed to bypass completely, but he remembers a few weeks back, his conversation with Stiles…

“Huh,” Derek announces to the room, which is suddenly very quiet. “Well, I guess that makes sense? I mean,” He turns in his seat to see his best friend, phone long forgotten in his hands and expression holding a false smirk. Derek’s heart clenches with worry for a moment before he realises Stiles has always been evasive when it comes to Derek’s love life. He’s just protective. Even of his imaginary self, it seems.

“We do spend a lot of time together, so… but, I mean, Stiles is my best friend, it’s not really something that’s going to happen, you know? Sorry, guys.” He grins, and there are a few faux disappointed sounds from the audience, but he knows it’s all in good jest. He guesses they can ‘ship’ him and Stiles if they want. It’s not really something Derek cares about. It doesn’t affect him, so, why should he?

Derek sneaks a glance at Stiles, who for all the world looks like he doesn’t really care about the proceedings, but he’s holding his phone tightly, knuckles white, and Derek frowns-

“Alright, thanks, Josh. Next question!”

About half an hour later, the panel is coming to a close and the slight relief from nerves he felt earlier has left him. He feels like he might vomit at any moment. Only imagining the look on Stiles’s face is getting him through questions about  _Grazer_ ’s possible sequel.

Finishing up a question about upcoming projects, knowing it’s the last one is perfect for Derek. He segues into his news awkwardly, thought he’d work out how to say it impromptu.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a new project coming up.” He quickly looks to Stiles to see he’s a little confused. It’s warranted – Derek has never  _not_  told Stiles about an upcoming role, before. It’s just not something he’s ever wanted to hide from him. “It’s one I’m really excited about, and sort of surprised I got, to be honest.”

The crowd seems to be waiting with bated breath, and he can see Stiles stand from his seat, eyes wide. He’s probably guessed it. It’s not really that hard, when Derek thinks about it.

“There’s really no other way to say this but, uhh-“ He pauses for dramatic effect, knows Stiles is going to give him hell for it later, “I guess you’re looking at the new Bruce Wayne.”

There’s dead silence in the auditorium until Stiles almost screams “ _BATMAN?!_ ”

And suddenly the room is full of screams and shouts and flashes of cameras and Stiles is running up to him, jumping on his back and punching him good-naturedly in the arm, heatedly cursing him out.

“Oh, you are  _so_  dead for not telling me this! How could you not-“

Derek grins, and a million more flashes go off.

 

~*~*~

 

**__ **

 

**_Stiles Stilinski_ ** _  
@StilesFreakingStilinski_

_Batman? ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS??! BATMANNNNN_

_4:07 PM – 20 Jul 13_

 

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_@StilesFreakingStilinski: Sorry_

_4:25 PM – 20 Jul 13_

**_Stiles Stilinski_ ** _  
@StilesFreakingStilinski_

_@therealderekhale: YEAH YOU’LL BE SORRY WHEN I BUY MERCH WITH YOUR FREAKING FACE ON IT_

_4:25 PM – 20 Jul 13_

 

~*~*~

 

“Say it. Say it again.”

Derek sighs tiredly, just wanting to finish his book in peace. Stiles has been bugging him ever since they left the con, if he’s honest. Derek’s not sure why he didn’t expect this.

“Say ‘I am Bruce Wayne, and I am Batman’,” Stiles urges, eyes a little manic and limbs flailing next to Derek on the couch, nearly knocking the book out of his hands.

“You know, I don’t think he ever actually says that.” Derek remarks dryly, giving up the battle and marking his page in the newest addition to his favourite series.

“Do you want to see the script?” He asks finally, hoping it’ll distract Stiles enough that maybe Derek can call Laura, tell her the news. She doesn’t follow entertainment media, but he knows she’ll be excited, at the very least for him.

“Yes.” Stiles answers immediately, then abruptly frowns, “Wait, no.”

Derek raises a bushy eyebrow, and rises from the couch in order to grab his cell, call Laura.

“ACTUALLY YES!” Stiles exclaims, and Derek pauses.

“No, no, I can’t, I should wait.”

As Derek enters his room, he hears Stiles once more.

“No, Derek, I mean yes, I need the script, give it to me!” A short pause, “No, don’t, keep it away!”

Derek shakes his head, chuckling.

Stiles stumbles in a few minutes later, hair slightly more ruffled than usual from running his hands through it, Derek guesses. Nervous habit he’s happened to pick up from Stiles.

Derek’s phone lies unattended on his bedside table. There was no doubt that Stiles would follow him into his room. He was lying on his bed, waiting. The stress ball is a heavy weight in his hands.

He stays silent, knowing Stiles will talk when he’s ready. It’s only when Stiles is slightly manic and crazy that Derek realises he’s hiding something. Whether it’s information or a feeling, he finds out pretty quickly, but the nagging feeling that accompanies Stiles in these moments never goes away until he lets Derek know what’s bothering him. Derek would say it’s what best friends are for, but Stiles never does the same with Scott. Scott, who vies for Stiles’s attention just as much as Derek does, making Derek feel like a preschooler with allocated Stiles-time. If he goes over, it’s time out for him.

“So about that panel today,” Stiles begins, nervously fiddling with the edge of Derek’s comforter, “That wasn’t weird, right?”

Derek thinks for a moment. There was nothing extremely weird or out of the ordinary about the panel. When Derek first came to relative fame, the press was all over Stiles and his potential to be Derek Hale’s love interest, but they’ve learnt over the years to leave Stiles alone. And it’s not like he and Stiles have been encouraging the rumours. They’re just best friends, who have been living together for three years now. It’s nothing suspicious.

“I mean,” Stiles continues, searching Derek’s face, “The, ah,” He laughs awkwardly, “the Sterek thing. That wasn’t… you know… strange?”

“It’s not the first time people have speculated, Stiles.” Derek points out, unsure as to why Stiles is bringing this up now, as to why Stiles is distressed about this in the first place.

“I guess,” His eyes dart around the room, refusing to meet Derek’s concerned gaze. His hands, normally halfway through a gesture, or gripping Derek’s shoulder, or patting his cheek jokingly, or many other things that Derek always thought were friendly-

“But it’s weird to think people  _want_ that, right?” He probes further.

Derek considers his answer. He’s not sure what Stiles is asking, here. Derek has never been good with subtlety. Whilst he’s credited as a subtle and powerful actor, he hasn’t mastered the art in real life. Facts and figures and feelings fly straight over his head. Sometimes Derek feels he’d benefit from being hit in the face by people’s intentions. Life might operate more smoothly, that way. God knows how many times Stiles has had to spell things out for him, Laura as well. Erica has done her fair share of convincing him that he’s exactly what people were looking for,  _after_  he booked a project. Derek has never quite believed his circumstances since the fire. There’s always been an aspect of the surreal to his life.

“I guess. Why are we talking about this?” Derek questions. His head hurts. It’s late at night and he wants to sleep. They have a busy con day ahead of them and Derek wants to be prepared for the media backlash of his announcement today.

“No reason.” Stiles says, suddenly chirpier and more upbeat than he’s been all day. He lies down beside Derek, beginning a tirade about how difficult it is to find work when you’re a struggling scriptwriter, a diatribe Derek is all-too familiar with. If there’s a slight strain on his sarcasm, Derek doesn’t see it.

 

~*~*~

 

_sterek_

No, that seems too vague.

_stiles stilinski derek hale_

_About 468,000 results (0.39 seconds)_

Okay, so maybe Derek is guilty of investigating a little bit. He’s always been a little curious, probably too curious for his own good ( _not thinking about it, not thinking about it_ ), and Stiles’s reaction to that fan question had him thinking.

So, the Internet.

If it wasn’t obvious to anyone who knew Derek already, he isn’t exactly Internet savvy. He could definitely research a paper, could definitely operate e-mail and Microsoft Word. But memes, ships, social media? All very much outside of Derek’s ability,  _and_  comfort zone.

He bypasses Livejournal, the site he briefly perused a couple of months back, and instead clicks the most relevant links. He comes across something called  _Archive Of Our Own_ , its purpose he’s not sure of, and something called fuckyeahstilesderek, which at first makes him think someone really likes the fact that they’re friends. Or just really likes them as people, which Derek guesses is all right with him. Stiles is the best person he knows, besides his sister. He understands.

As he clicks, he realises how wrong he is.

It’s… different.

Derek always suspected there were more types of fans than he was aware of. He always met those who loved his characters, really related to them and wanted him to discuss their motives at length. He’s never really met fans that liked him for  _him_. It’s always been Derek Hale  _as_ someone. Not Derek Hale.

Well, these fans like him. They like him a lot. And they like Stiles, too.

In fact, they more than like them, they like them  _together_. As in, feelings-involved,  _we-love-each-other-more-than-life-itself_  together. Derek isn’t sure what to do with that.

Maybe this is what Stiles was trying to steer him away from. Real Person Fiction, RPF, seemed to be where the most… intense and creative fans vented out their sexual frustration… over  _them_.

He sees things like AU, and angst, and fluff, and all these different scenarios in which he and Stiles  _become a couple_.

He clicks on the most recent one, a work called  _Unrequited_  by gemwolf.

 _“Did you see Stiles’s face at the panel on the weekend?”_ Derek reads,  _“Oh my god, he looked absolutely CRUSHED when Derek said they would never happen. Still my ultimate OTP, but really, Derek? Really? Get your shit together. I wrote a little something because feels.”_

Derek’s not sure what feels are, but he's slightly offended that this person blames him for something that didn’t even happen. Stiles wasn’t  _upset_. He was just-

Derek doesn’t even know anymore. The RPF is making him question things he thought he understood.

Not to mention they’re writing really sad things about how Stiles loves him and Derek  _doesn’t_. Like that’s even remotely true.

 _I thought they wanted us together?_  Derek thinks. He stops, incredulous. The fact he’s becoming so affected by this probably means he needs to stop.

He opens up the second link.

_“A blog dedicated to the true love of Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski. Run by Sari and Katie._

_DISCLAIMER: In no way is this blog associated with either Derek Hale or Stiles Stilinski. Neither of us knows these guys personally, this is simply a fan blog for their RPF pairing. Enjoy!”_

Derek is… reluctantly impressed. There are these things called manips, where people stick his and Stiles’s faces on other pictures,  _couple-y pictures_. Some of them are really good. And then there’s the  _fanart_ , which Derek is intimately familiar with after  _Grazer_ , the thriller garnering much fanart for its gritty cinematography and supposedly ‘sizzling sexual tension’ between the two leads. Derek isn’t a stranger to having his body portrayed in many ways, many sexual ways. He’s just not used to seeing the other body being his best friend.

 _“Ahhhhh!”_  Something called an ask by user  _mightygrazers_  reads,  _“Derek is gonna be Batman! So cool! Let us not forget whose favourite superhero is Batman. And how Derek is totally a Marvel guy. I wonder what inspired him to take on the role? ;)”_

There’s a moving picture underneath, what Derek presumes to be a GIF, and the answer. He remembers Stiles explaining GIFs to him a while back when Derek thought he was hallucinating something on the computer screen. The amused fondness in his eyes imprinted itself into Derek’s brain, and he remembers it now.

The GIF is a girl crying, and Derek is a little confused. These people seem really unhappy.

He scrolls through the blog a little while, stumped.

Stiles is… Stiles. He’s been best friends with Derek since his family burned, there for him when no one else was. At first he was just the annoying kid who said too much, but he was exactly what Derek needed to fill the silence his family left behind when they died. Stiles has been there, through failed relationships, therapy, and even Laura’s first relationship after the fire. Derek had major trust issues, he still does. But Stiles. Stiles is the only person outside of family that Derek trusts explicitly.

And maybe that’s what all these people are talking about.

Before he closes his browser he leaves an anonymous message, bookmarking the blog to check for a reply in the coming days.

_“why do you ship stiles and derek?”_

The Internet might be able to help him after all.

 

~*~*~

 

Jennifer is… unusual.

She seems genuinely interested in him, which is a first. Well, a first for someone who wants to sleep with him without the plan to cripple him emotionally for the rest of his life.

It’s refreshing.

Given his erratic schedule and Jennifer’s return to the school year, they’d only recently been able to organize a date and follow through. They had rescheduled the last one, Derek already on his way when she’d rung him, distraught and apologetic as she explained that a family emergency had come up. Derek knew all about family emergencies, and hadn’t kicked up a fuss. This was Laura’s friend, after all. Maybe she was just letting him down easy.

But, alas, here they were.

She’s everything he would’ve looked for in a partner before… well,  _before_ ; smart, funny, a little goofy and self-deprecating, but kind. He’s a sucker for kindness.

Which doesn’t explain why he can’t stop thinking about the damn Internet. These shippers have gotten into his brain and won’t shake themselves loose. Actions he used to think were perfectly innocent now seem downright obscene, and Derek-

He’s adjusting. Stiles has always been intriguing to Derek. First it was his smile, blinding and a stark contrast to the darkness Derek felt after everything that happened. Then it was his hair, buzzed at first, but now longer and always perpetually messy, which drives Derek mad. Right now, he’s not sure with what. He always used to think he was just annoyed because how hard can it be to run a hand or two through the mop, but now… well, maybe it’s something different. Thinking about hands, those were next – long, dexterous, veiny… good hands. Solid. Comforting. Then his lips, shaping words meant to infuriate and amuse, words meant to show love and spit out sarcasm.

Derek might have a problem.

He’s looking at the cheque, two mains and no dessert, when Jennifer speaks up.

“It was good to meet with you, Derek.” She smiles, sweet and sad, “But I’m guessing that we won’t be doing this again.”

He doesn’t say anything, words always leaving him at the slight sign of trouble.

“It’s okay,” She continues, straightening her hair out anxiously, “I get the feeling there’s something else on your mind.”

The waiter takes the bill from Derek’s lax hands.

“Yeah.” Derek utters.

And that’s the end of that.

 

~*~*~

 

He checks the blog when he gets home, and the reply is simple. It’s a picture.

The thing is, Derek remembers it. He remembers the exact day it was taken. Scott was having a party on a yacht to celebrate his and Allison’s engagement, because Scott never does anything by halves, and Stiles had dragged him along as his plus one. Derek knew Scott – of course he did, you don’t get away with being Stiles’s best friend for years without meeting his step-brother. But Derek and Scott had never gotten along, too invested in Stiles to care about each other; too much jealousy to ever become friends.

Derek had gone with, knowing Stiles felt a little out of place amongst Scott’s new friends, Isaac and Boyd both tall and intimidating. It’s where Derek had met Erica, actually, who had told him she was working on her degree in P.R. and could use an internship.

They’d both been slightly drunk, Stiles to muster up the confidence to talk to Scott’s friends, and Derek to make Stiles feel better about getting drunk. Allison had commandeered the camera, and had taken photo after photo of them pretty much all over each other. Stiles was a handsy, affectionate drunk, and Derek went along with it.

Stiles had posted the photo on some social media account in the early days of Derek’s career, reminiscing on times before Derek had “become such an asshole” It’d always been a joke between them, but now it’s coming back to hit Derek smack in the middle of the face.

Derek is in love with Stiles. He has been for a while.

_Shit._

He does what he always does in times of emotional strife. He calls Erica.

“Erica,” He begins desperately, “Stiles is-“

“Head over heels, I want your gay babies, screw being best friends let’s screw each other in love with you?” She finishes nonchalantly. Derek hears the faint sound of a television in the background. “Yeah, I know.”

“What?” Derek shakes his head exasperatedly, “No!”

“Yeah,” Erica intones slowly, “Stiles warned me this might happen.”

“What do you mean  _Stiles warned you?!_ ” Derek exclaims. His hair itches the back of his neck, and his throat is struggling to swallow down the bile he feels coming up. Does Stiles know? Has he been waiting for this?

“Well, after the Comic Con fiasco-“

“What fiasco?!”

“He told me to expect backlash. He didn’t say it in so many words, but…” Erica trails off, and Derek has an image of her finishing a polish of a particularly difficult nail, “He thought you might figure it out, told me to send him the S.O.S. so he could ditch the bachelor pad for a few days while you sorted your shit out.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Derek cries helplessly.

“What, you’ve been talking to other people about this? Excuse me,  _who_  helped you hide your pre-2010 manslut days?”

He ignores her, brain ticking into overdrive.

“Where is he?”

“What, lover boy? You mean you’re finally getting your head out of your ass? Hey, good for you.”

“Erica,” Derek warns.

“Okay, okay. He’s at his Dad’s. Now don’t call me again unless it’s about doing those promo shoots for  _Batman_.” Her voice gets deeper, a whole lot more sinister, “Your choice hasn’t been made until it’s the right one, Derek.”

She hangs up, but Derek’s already grabbing his keys and wallet and is heading for the door. He’d thought Stiles might be out tonight. He tends to do that when Derek has a date.

 _Another evasion tactic,_ Derek muses. How did he not see it before?

 

~*~*~

 

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_Going to tell Stiles I love him. Is this how you live tweet?_

_12:53 AM – 7 Sep 13_

 

**_Derek Hale_ ** _  
@therealderekhale_

_Wish me luck_

_12:53 AM – 7 Sep 13_

 

_**batmanandstiles** _  
_@batmanandstiles_

_@therealderekhale wHAT?????? omg_

_12:54 AM – 7 Sep 13_

 

~*~*~

 

“You ass.” Sheriff Stilinski announces when he opens the door and Derek is standing on the other side, expression tight with nerves. “You woke me up at 1am for this, I hope you know. I am owed bacon in the morning.”

“Turkey bacon!” Derek hears faintly from the lounge room.

“Yeah, yeah.” The Sheriff waves a hand dismissively, and turns back into the house. He takes a few steps before stopping and looking over his shoulder.

“You coming in, son? You came all this way for a reason,” The glint in his eye tells Derek he won’t be getting away with this impulsive visit, “Seems kind of stupid to run away scared now.”

Despite the slightly ominous undertones colouring John’s voice, he has a point. Derek drove three hours to be here, and John has to be up in another three. It seems cowardly to back out, now. Anyway, Derek committed to the Internet. He committed to his fans. He can’t live tweet something and go back on it.

He steels his resolve, taking a deep breath before stepping into the familiar hallway. The lights are out, only the white glow of the television illuminating Derek’s path as he makes his way to Stiles.

John ascends the stairs and Derek watches Stiles, who’s looking blankly at the screen.

“When I told you that Twitter was like a running commentary on your life, I didn’t mean commentary on  _important life decisions_  that might backfire spectacularly.”

Derek clenches his jaw and waits. The light of the television shows Derek shiny eyes, red-rimmed and exhausted.

“Talk about a night to remember, huh?” Stiles snorts.

“Can you please not joke about this?” Derek pleads quietly, moving to sit down on the couch. He wishes he could close those last few inches between them, forget about everything that’s happened and go back to Derek and Stiles, best friends since his ex-girlfriend burned his family alive after the last thing he said to his mother was  _“I hate_ everything! _”_

They remain quiet, and only the soft sounds of the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie, Stiles’s favourite, can be heard throughout the room.

“I’m not sure how to say this.” Derek begins, frowning hard at the back of the couch.

Stiles chuckles, “You did pretty well on Twitter.”

Derek gapes at him, “You saw that?”

“Why else do you think I’m up at three in the morning? Funsies?” Stiles quirks an eyebrow, mouth tilting up at the corners slowly.

He lifts a hand to Stiles’s face, and Stiles looks spooked for a second before relaxing into it, smiling weakly at him.

“Thought I’d have to wait forever, you know.” He mumbles, pale hand coming up to rest on Derek’s.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Stiles’s eyes crinkle, his smile broadening to something playful. Derek has never seen this particular smile directed at him. It’s not the type of smile that’s strictly platonic. It’s all Derek can do to resist kissing it right off of Stiles’s face.

So that’s exactly what he does.

A muffled sound comes from Stiles, but he lifts another hand to join the other now on Derek’s face, scratching lightly at his stubbled jaw. Derek has a gentle hold of Stiles’s neck, coaxing, encouraging. The kiss is soft, unhurried, and completely consuming.

It’s the best kiss Derek has had in a long time.

Stiles pulls away, and Derek follows instinctively. He’s stopped when Stiles rests their foreheads together, almost going bug-eyed trying to maintain eye contact.

“I love you.” Stiles admits, smiling happily, his tired eyes alight with relief, “A lot. Just for clarification.”

Derek smirks.

“I know.”

Stiles gawks at him in disbelief, as Derek laughs. He gets up, playfully indignant.

“No, no, no,” Derek protests, grabbing Stiles’s hands and pulling him back down on top of Derek.

“I love you, too.” He reciprocates, “A lot.”

Stiles hums happily.

“And who do I have to thank for this revelation?” he teases, running a hand through Derek’s slightly gelled hair. The date with Jennifer seems like a week ago, now.

“RPF.” Derek replies, a little embarrassed.

“Seriously?” Stiles questions sceptically.

“Seriously.”

 

~*~*~

 

**_batmanandstiles_ ** _  
@batmanandstiles_

_“@StilesFreakingStiinski: RPF? Guys, don’t let Derek see that shit” REMEMBER WHEN? *floats into the sun*_

_6:59 PM – 29 Nov 13_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over at tumblr under the same username. [Check it out.](http://batmanandstiles.tumblr.com)


End file.
